


(It's) Art (You Blockhead)

by Newtdew25



Series: The Best Laid Plans [6]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autism Spectrum, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9687527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtdew25/pseuds/Newtdew25
Summary: "'The Truth about the Moon' was a black velvet painting that depicted a luminous full moon over a sleepy desert landscape. Each stroke of acrylic paint served to bring out the dichotomy between the elements of the piece. Warm, rich yellow sand and brown mountains contrasted greatly with the cold, stark whites and blues of the stars above. The titular moon shone with a brightness that seemed impossible to create with a brush, an ethereal halo against a bleak sky. Jack had spent countless all-nighters working on it, his passion carrying him away. Personally, he thought it looked rough, unfinished. Pathetic, even.Everyone seemed to think otherwise."When some of Jack's paintings are featured at a local art gallery, David and Crutchie accompany him to the show. Chance encounters, free wine, and a lightweight David Jacobs ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Evan Deklu and Andy Dierker, best of friends and best of brothers. We miss you, we love you.

7:39 P.M

_“Today already feels like it’s gonna fall apart.”_

            Jack licked his lips as he ran his hands through his hair. For big social events like this, he needed to achieve the perfect blend of “up-and-coming artist” and “I’m not trying to be a hipster; I just dress like this.” He’d borrowed a teal bowtie from Crutchie and a pair of white suspenders from David to add to what he hoped was a respectable outfit. With a sigh, he pressed down the front of his black button-up again, looking over himself in the mirror.

            “Oh for crying out loud, Jack. You look great, okay?” He could see Crutchie looking at him through the mirror, the boy’s perpetual puppy-dog eyes softening any malice in his words.

            David got up from where he was sitting beside Crutchie to walk to Jack. “You’re still hopeless when it comes to tying bowties though,” he chuckled. From behind him, David reached around to straighten out the article of clothing. “But you’ve got good taste in cologne.”

            “I think it’s yours, actually,” Jack laughed as David kissed a sensitive spot on the back of his neck. “I just grabbed a random bottle from the bedside table.”

            Crutchie had gently nudged Jack aside to look at himself in the mirror as well. “Nope, it’s The One, by Dolce and Gabbana” he remarked while fixing his collar. “I bought a bottle of the stuff last month for Katherine’s proposal party.”

            The three men smiled at the memory, although David couldn’t quite get the image of his older sister flaunting her engagement ring out of his mind. He was happy for her though; he knew just as well as anyone that Katherine was absolutely smitten with Sarah Jacobs. All David had to do was think of an embarrassing story to tell at the wedding.

            “Anyways,” Crutchie sighed. “We should be on our way. Wouldn’t want our Picasso here to be late to his own art show, now would we?” Jack blushed and hid his face behind his hands. “Guys, it ain’t that big a deal. It’s just a local gallery, nothing fancy.”

 David snorted as he held Jack’s shoulders and turned the man to face him.  “But it’s your first showing Jack. To us, it’s better than any museum or fancy collection, okay?” Crutchie nodded in agreement, hugging Jack from behind. “So be proud of yourself, babe.” The feeling of two distinct kisses on his neck made Jack feel like melting into a puddle of bliss and/or ripping the clothes off his two boyfriends and throwing them into the sheets.

_“Maybe after the show.”_

8:27 P.M

            The Meyers-Balatt Art Gallery was by no means big, but the surprisingly large crowd milling within its halls and outside in its gardens gave the building a sense of grandness, like the fairy tale castles of old. Jack stood on the steps of the gallery, a silent gasp escaping his lips. Even as he felt David and Crutchie’s hands intertwine with his, he couldn’t quite bring himself to make his way into the crowded hall.

            “Are you okay?” David asked quietly, looking concernedly at Jack. The latter’s fingers were tapping out a nervous rhythm against David’s hand, his jaw clenched. “Do you want to come back when it’s not as busy?”

            Jack shook his head, his grip on his boyfriends’ hands tightening. “N-No, I’m fine,” he muttered, looking apologetically at Crutchie, who winced at the grip on his hand. “I just need some time… Sorry.”

            “No need to apologize, Jackie boy,” Crutchie answered, his voice soothing and light. “Take all the time you need.”

            _“I must’ve been a saint in my past life to get boyfriends who love me so much.”_

8:32 P.M

            “The Truth about the Moon” was a black velvet painting that depicted a luminous full moon over a sleepy desert landscape. Each stroke of acrylic paint served to bring out the dichotomy between the elements of the piece. Warm, rich yellow sand and brown mountains contrasted greatly with the cold, stark whites and blues of the stars above. The titular moon shone with a brightness that seemed impossible to create with a brush, an ethereal halo against a bleak sky. Jack had spent countless all-nighters working on it, his passion carrying him away. Personally, he thought it looked rough, unfinished. Pathetic, even.

            Everyone seemed to think otherwise.

            As he took one of the complimentary glasses of wine being offered, the server explained that one of the highlights of the collection was a landscape piece by a new artist. David hummed thoughtfully as he took a sip from his glass. “Seems like this Jack Kelly guy’s kind of a big deal,” Crutchie offered as he got a drink of his own. “I bet he’s hella cute.”

            “I’m not cute,” Jack muttered as he looked down at his feet. “I’m fucking fierce.”

            David chuckled as he ruffled Jack’s hair. “It doesn’t sound as convincing when you’re wearing a bowtie.” Before he could protest, Crutchie tugged at his arm excitedly. “Look, look! Some guys over there look really rich; I bet they’re famous!” Jack looked over nervously, letting go of David’s hand to adjust his collar. “That’s my painting… They’re admiring my painting?”

            Both of his boyfriends nodded, looking at Jack with pride. “I think they’d like to meet the artist behind it,” David said, barely able to contain his glee.

            “What do I do?” Jack stammered. “I don’t talk to people about my art? What if they laugh at it?” He looked towards the gallery doors. “Maybe there’s still time to leave…”

            Crutchie brought his hand to Jack’s face, gently stroking his cheek. The latter began counting out loud again; another way for him to calm himself down. “100, 99, 98, 97, 96…” Even as some of the other patrons looked over at him in confusion, Jack did his best to focus on the two men beside him.

            _“I can do this; I can talk about my art. This is my moment to be proud.”_

He breathed out, looking at the growing crowd with a renewed sense of determination. “I’ll call one of you if I need anything.” Of course, he stuck around for a sweet kiss from both David and Crutchie before he walked off towards his newly found fans.

            _“I am proud of who I am and what I’ve done.”_

9:51 P.M

            “So he literally ran into you?” Crutchie asked as he sipped from his water bottle. He found that he wasn’t too fond of the wine being offered, so he settled for a more conventional drink. David, already on his fifth glass of the stuff, was attempting to recount how he and Jack first met.

            “Yeah, he did!” he answered, almost leaning on his boyfriend for support. “Jackie was running from some cops or somethin’, I don’t remember. Kinda wish he fell on me, like they do in all those movies and stuff…” David chugged the remainder of the glass before handing it off to a server. “Actually, that would’ve been a bad idea.”

            “Because then he would’ve been caught?” Crutchie offered, taking his boyfriend aside so he wouldn’t face plant in the middle of the hallway.

            “No, ‘cause he would’ve felt how hard I was down there,” David slurred out, much to Crutchie’s embarrassment. “He gave me butterflies in my penis area.”

            Crutchie cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn’t red. “Alrighty then, Dave. I think I better get you home…” The way that David bit his lip while looking down at him certainly didn’t help him compose himself. “B-But we’ve got to support Jack! I don’t wanna go yet…” Barney Peanuts did say that a drunk Davey was a funny Davey; that definitely didn’t mean he was a helpful Davey.

            _“God have mercy on my soul as I try to keep my boyfriend upright.”_

10:22 P.M

            The crowds had begun to thin out, but Jack was still entertaining a few questions from those who passed by. He kept an eye out for either of his boyfriends as he gave the backstory of the painting. Once, he had to fend off a critic who claimed that his use of velvet took away from the “natural” feel suggested by the subject.

            _“You really can’t please everybody, can you?”_

            After the overly fussy visitor left, Jack decided to look for his boyfriends himself. The only notifications on his phone were messages from Medda about going grocery shopping tomorrow as well as a reminder from Coach Denton about next week’s tournament. Before he could call Crutchie (who was more likely to be on his phone by now), Jack heard someone clear their throat from behind him.

            “Excuse me, are you the one who painted this?”

            Jack groaned inwardly as he put his phone away. “Yeah, why do you ask?” He turned around, expecting another middle-aged art teacher who thought they were an expert because they took a few courses in college. Instead, he came face to face with another teenager, probably no older than he was. “It’s a beautiful painting, but I just wanted to ask this; why a desert?”

            Jack wanted to tell the man how his parents raised him on the plains of New Mexico. He wished he could spin a tale about growing up among the cowboys and the Native Americans that populated a town called Santa Fe. Perhaps Jack could explain how even after being moved through the foster care system for years, he longed to go back home to his family’s ranch. Of course, his parents would welcome him back with open arms, and he’d get to see his older brother Francis with his wife and kids.

            But none of that would be true, not in the least.

            “To be honest with you,” Jack sighed. “I don’t really know. L’art pour l’art, right?” The asker smiled in a way that suggested he could sense Jack’s feelings. “Of course,” he replied. “Sometimes we just have to appreciate art for what it is; art.”

            Jack nodded, looking him in the eye. “Well, anything else you’d like to know, er… sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” The man looked around nervously, his voice dropping down low. “Please don’t make this public knowledge. I can’t have my family knowing I’m out and about, not lying in bed sick.” Jack nodded slowly and leaned in to whisper. “So your name is…?”

            “Darcy. Darcy Reid.”

            As Jack stepped back, he almost bumped into his own painting. The Reids were a notoriously wealthy family with more than a few uncouth members. Nonetheless, their wealth ensured that they had a great deal of influence in New Haven. It could even be argued that their power rivaled that of the Pulitzers.

            _“For all the wealth she was raised in, Katherine didn’t turn out so bad. Maybe it’ll be the same with this guy?”_

            Darcy’s face fell as he took back his hand. “I-I understand if you’re nervous about my family… I’ll just be going then.” As he turned to go, Jack tapped his shoulder. “Look, I didn’t mean to be rude like that. You seem like a pretty good guy though; you go to New Haven High?” Nodding, Darcy relaxed his posture. “It took a great deal of arguing since Father insisted I go to a private school,” he mumbled. “However, I do enjoy feeling like a ‘normal’ teenager instead of living off of my family’s money. That’s why I use the last name of Jasperson instead.”

            “Well,” Jack smiled. “I hope I’ll see you around more, Darce. You any good at lacrosse?” Darcy shook his head, grinning a little at the nickname. “Heavens, no. I do dance, though I don’t suppose many people consider it to be a sport. I’ve seen you play though, and you seem quite good at what you do.”

            _“Huh, maybe not all rich people are assholes.”_

10:40 P.M

            Jack was surprised at how friendly the youngest son of the Reid family was. He would have continued to talk with him if he hadn’t heard his name from down the hall.

            “Jackie! Jackie-boy, where are you?” David’s voice grew louder as he turned around the corner. Upon seeing Jack, he started running towards him with a fair amount of near-tripping over his lanky legs. Crutchie was doing his best to keep up and finally got his chance when David fell flat on his face in the middle of the gallery.

            Darcy, being the closest, got to him first. “A-Are you okay? What happened?” Crutchie simply shook his head and muttered something about wine. “Davey’s always been a lightweight,” Jack explained. “It’s not too bad since he’s a funny drunk. Me and Crutch’ll just take him home now.”

            At that moment, David managed to sit up cross-legged and look up at the three men. “Who… Who’re you?” he sputtered out as he pointed to Darcy. “Were you flirtin’ with Jackie?”

            “What? No, not at all!” Darcy raised his hands defensively. “I was just talking to him about his painting!”

            “Bull. Shit.” Even Jack was a bit alarmed at his boyfriend’s bluntness. “I could hear ya, and ya know what? Ya can’t have him; he’s mine.” David shakily got to his feet and fisted his hands in Jack’s shirt, pulling him into a forceful, somewhat sloppy kiss.

            While Jack wiped his mouth on his sleeve and tried to catch his breath, Crutchie tried to hold David back. “Oh, and ya can’t have Crutchie either! We’se boyfriends; plural!” Darcy never lost his expression of shock as David kissed his other boyfriend.

            Crutchie was thanking every possible deity out there that the gallery was practically empty except for the four of them. Jack looked at Darcy sheepishly, trying to find the words to explain what just happened. “Uh, Darcy… These are my boyfriends, Crutchie and David,” he murmured, gesturing to both of them. “We’re polyamorous, so that’s why there was all that… kissing.”

            David was leaning on Jack, his expression one of triumph and jealousy. “So ya ain’t datin’ none of us, unless you’se a homophobe or somethin’…” His face grew dark, and he made another lunge at Darcy until Jack held him back. “Me, a homophobe?” Darcy almost laughed in spite of the situation. “That would greatly upset my boyfriend… Don’t tell my family, please!”

            All of them but David mimed zipping their lips, much to Darcy’s relief. “I’d best be off now. I wouldn’t want my family to come home to an empty bed.” He turned to Jack, offering his hand. “And the best of luck to you with your art, Mr. Kelly.” After shaking hands, Darcy nodded at Crutchie and headed towards the gallery doors.

            “So… who was that?” Crutchie asked as soon as he had left.

            After removing David’s hands from his face, Jack cleared his throat. “Just some guy with good taste in art. The more important question is this; how much did Davey drink?”

            “I didn’t drink _that_ much…”

            “He just kept grabbing the glasses; I tried to stop him, but his arms are just too damn long!”

            Jack grinned through his sigh. “It’s been a long night, we should probably get going now anyways. Think you can get him to the car? I gotta talk to Mr. Jordan about my paintings.”

            Crutchie feigned frustration as he took David’s weight off of Jack’s shoulders. “Fine,” he groaned. “But you owe me one, Jack.”

            “I’ll let you top tonight?”

            “Well, I was kinda hoping that I’d have Davey as well, but since he’s out of it, it might just be us tonight,” Crutchie grinned as he looked at his barely awake boyfriend. “Unless he sobers up before we get home, which I really hope happens.”

            Jack walked over to kiss both his boyfriends on their foreheads. “So do I, Crutch. So do I.” He ruffled Crutchie’s hair before he turned to go find the curator.

            _“So I’ve gotten publicity for my painting, made a new friend, and I’m getting laid tonight. Today wasn’t so bad now, was it?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here's a breakdown of things I've included in this fic:
> 
> 1\. Since this in The Best Laid Plans, Jack still has high-functioning autism. I've tried to convey that through his counting out loud as well as how David and Crutchie use gentle physical affection to comfort him when he needs it.
> 
> 2\. The Meyers-Balatt Gallery is a reference to Mush Meyers and Louis "Kid Blink" Balatt, two newsies from the 1992 movie who were pretty much in a relationship. Just watch the movie and see how physically affectionate they are together.
> 
> 3\. The Truth About the Moon is the name of a cut song from the stage production of Newsies meant for Sarah Jacobs. It's also the name of a fic by LesAmis_Emily that I recently read and had so many feelings about. Seriously, you should read it.
> 
> 4\. Jack and David's first meeting is taken from the 1992 movie when Jack is escaping the Delancey Brothers and bumps into David and Les.
> 
> 5\. Drunk David being a funny David as well as Barney Peanuts were first referenced in Pieces, an earlier fic of mine.
> 
> 6\. Jack's backstory is briefly referenced in Of Fancy Dinners and First Meetings, and is nowhere near as happy as he wishes it could be.
> 
> 7\. "L'art pour l'art" is French for "Art for the sake of art," and refers to the belief that art doesn't need to have a lesson or moral. It is simply to be appreciated.
> 
> 8\. Darcy's fake last name refers to Thayne Jasperson, who originated the role of Jojo/Darcy on Broadway (and is also currently Samuel Seabury in Hamilton while still being adorable).
> 
> 9\. Mr. Jordan is a reference to none other than Jeremy Jordan (who is great in Supergirl and is all around beautiful).


End file.
